Meaning Games
by dressed in red
Summary: Post-series. Zelman takes Kotarou out for a little adventure to pass the time, and they both enjoy themselves through simple things on the way there. Mostly my take on how Kotarou sees Zelman.


_A/N: Something I wrote a while back. There was meant to be more, but I lost inspiration. Maybe I just like making Zelman look like a cream puff.  
Also my first time writing from Kotarou's point of view, so. You've been warned. Expect excess amounts of cute._

**_* * * * * * *_**

"_Ringel, Ringel, Rosen, schöne Aprikosen..."_

Kotarou listened to the notes and the words that he didn't understand, admiring the man's singing voice. It wasn't particularly glamorous or pretty, and it wasn't the type of voice that would awe an audience or sing out love songs. Instead it was simple, well-timed, but still had a charming feeling to it. It was the kind of voice you heard from young sailors on ships who were singing about pranks to play on their fellow crewman. It was a voice to entertain and to make one smile and laugh, and to Kotarou, it was quickly becoming a voice he associated with home.

"_Veilchen und Vergissmeinnicht, alle Kinder setzen sich."_

"Wooooah—!" the little boy exclaimed, eyes wide with amazement, "You really _do_ know it, Zelman-san!"

"Of course. I spent a lot of time there, after all. Germany was one of my favorites."

The magic of his voice was hidden under the veil of causality now, but only barely. Kotarou took two steps for every one that Zelman took, and he wondered if Zelman was walking slower just to make things easier. He sped up a little, walking out a bit in front of him and turning around so that he could still look at the red-head.

"You must have traveled all over the place, huh?"

"Pretty much," A little smile quirked up on Zelman's lips and Kotarou watched him form words expertly around the cigarette he'd snuck back towards his mouth. The smirk and the smoke were two more things that were part of his home.

"What's it mean? Can you sing it in Russian, too? That's where Brother and I lived before we came to the Special Zone, I speak it better than I do Japanese... Though Japanese is more fun to write! Even if I'm not so good at it yet—"

The boy was cut off as something hit the back of his shoe that he hadn't expected to be there; he wobbled his arms a little before he realized he was falling towards the ground. Surprised, he let out a yell, but that too was cut off when a strong, firm arm fell into place behind his back. The remains of the yell came out as a surprised "—eh?" as he looked up to see a pair of red eyes looking down at him.

"Careful," Zelman teased him, "I know foreign languages are exciting and all, but it's a little hard to enjoy the culture if you keep falling on your face."

Kotarou wiggled back upwards and Zelman helped straighten him out for a moment. The boy delivered a grateful word of thanks, since he was right—he knew well enough from his Brother that hitting the ground wasn't very fun, no matter _what_ angle it was from. Zelman nodded and continued on as if nothing had happened. Kotarou followed, back to his two steps for Zelman's one. He was always amazed at how Zelman stayed so calm about things.

Today, Zelman had offered to take him out to the festival that was being held in the center of the city. Kotarou'd left Jirou a note (he hoped Brother wouldn't be mad—but Zelman was Zelman so he wouldn't be in any real trouble, right?) saying he'd be back later. It was a beautiful blue-sky day and the air was warm, and he'd never been to a festival before so he wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but from what Zelman had told him, it sounded like something he definitely didn't want to miss!

"Hey, Zelman-san... Where are you from?"

He was all smiles again, curious to know more about his friend. Kotarou knew that Zelman wasn't exactly the nicest of people, since he liked to tease Cain and poke a bit of fun at Brother and Mimiko from time to time. He never used honorifics, which Kotarou had been told was very impolite. Mimiko told him that Zelman liked to cause trouble for the people in charge, and Brother had told him that Zelman had a very long history full of battles and wars... But even so, he couldn't help but admire the man. When it came down to it, Zelman had helped defend his new home from the Kowloon Children, and had saved him not once, but twice. Mimiko, too! He was powerful and brave and Kotarou still remembered everything he'd told him that day when they ate ramen together. Zelman was, in a sense, a little like another big brother to Kotarou. Any chance to spend more time with him made him happy, and his natural curiosity was heightened by the air of mystery Zelman carried about him.

"You mean where I was born?"

He watched Zelman adjust that funny black hat of his and flick the mostly-used cigarette off towards the side of the road.

"Poland."

"So you speak Polish, too?"

"Yeah," Zelman kept his eyes ahead of them, since only _he_ knew where they were going, "A couple different kinds, since it changes from place to place, time to time... I know what they spoke there before it was Poland, too, though I'm probably pretty rusty at it by now..."

Zelman looked up and the red of his eyes and hair were framed by the blue of the sky. Is stuck Kotarou as a strange contrast. His clothes were casual and fit in well. His posture and the various things he carried with him all blended into the scenery around the city, like they belonged. But Zelman's _eyes_, that strange, blood-red color, never really fit with anything. They stood out, like they belonged somewhere else entirely. Not the Special Zone... Not even the Sanctuary, or anywhere else he could think of. He wondered, vaguely, where _did_ Zelman's eyes belong...?

He blinked off the thoughts as Zelman looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Most people would have blushed or looked away or laughed it off, but Kotarou didn't see any reason to hide his curiosity around Zelman. That was another reason he liked him.

"Zelman-san, you have strange eyes," he paused, but then added with a smile, "But they're a really pretty color!"

The red-head's expression went from mild surprise to a strange sort of smile. Kotarou thought he tried to hide behind his collar when he turned his head to look forward again.

"I think so too," he replied simply, and the boy watched his smile peak back out from the black and white fabric after a few more steps.

"Can you say something in Polish?"

"How about..."

Kotarou put his hands out at his sides to balance as he hopped up and walked along a curb. He could hear Zelman stuff his hands back in his pockets like he always did. After a bit of silence between the two of them, he wondered for a moment if he had forgotten what Kotarou had asked, but a look up assured him that he was just thinking. A sudden small slip in his footing quickly sent his eyes shooting back to the few feet in front of him he had yet to travel.

"..._Co robimy?**"**_

He jumped off the end with a finalizing "ha!" as his shoes hit the ground. There weren't any cars around, which he liked since it meant he wouldn't have to worry about running into them in the road.

"Coo... Robemeee?" he tried to copy, and Zelman laughed a little at his horrible pronunciation. Kotarou didn't mind if Zelman was laughing at him, since it was nice to hear him laugh anyway, "What does that one mean?"

"It means," the man leaned down and grinned at him, "'_What are we up to?_'"

The boy laughed and then shouted happily, raising his hands in the air, "We're going to the festival!"

Zelman looked smug and leaned back up. He guided them into a left turn that had them cut between a couple buildings. Kotarou was about to ask him another question about what meant what when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Zelman stopped too, a couple steps ahead of him. He looked back, inquisitive. Kotarou's smile vanished for a moment as he stopped to listen. Very faintly, he thought he could hear... A tune. A little melody, floating on the wind, made by strings and whistles and voices. His smile slowly returned, filled with wonder. Zelman smiled too.

"Zelman-san, can you hear it?"

"Yeah, sounds like we're getting close."

"Exciting, exciting!" he ran ahead, easily beating out Zelman's strides this time, "It sounds so pretty!"

He rushed ahead in his anticipation but didn't worry about getting lost or anything. He trusted that Zelman would be right behind him if anything happened. As the music got louder he looked back a couple times, but Zelman was always still there a few steps away, that characteristic smirk playing on his lips. Afterwords he thought that he must've been imagining it, but in that moment he thought the little sparks of excitement that he felt were reflected in Zelman's strange, pretty red eyes as well.

He wondered, did Zelman know any songs to sing to this music, too...?


End file.
